Amissus Gemina
by Darkflame's Pyre
Summary: Losing someone is hard, but losing a child is somehow even worse, especially when they haven't even begun to live. A brief glimpse into the thoughts of a once-again father. Bound-Verse.


**A/N: Hello everybody. It's been such a long time, hasn't it? I am so terribly sorry that you've not heard from me for so long, but again, my normal excuse applies here, dear ol' RL has definitely hit me hard in the past six months, and not only that, Johnny hasn't been the most cooperative of characters. I know I left those of you reading Fulcrum with a horrific cliffhanger, and I'm doing everything in my power to give you an update on that soon, but he just clearly hates me at the moment.**

**I have been writing, but unfortunately, none of it is really stuff that I can post yet, as it is for the Thunderbirds crossover I'm in the process of writing with LexietFive, so it's left me in a bit of a shortage of posting material, to say the least. We'd both love for everyone to check it out, we're both intensely proud of all we've put up so far. You can find the link to our profile on my own page, or Lexie's. This piece in particular is something that I wrote in about two minutes, but it's been sitting on my harddrive for about three months, I completely forgot about it. It's a part of the Bound-Verse, and we see a character that I've only mentioned in that arc in passing before, so unless you know me well, it may be a bit of a surprise. No more rambling from me, just know that I am alive and kicking and am determined to get back into the swing of things soon. In the meantime, despite the slightly depressing tone to this piece, enjoy. Thanks for all the support.**

**Disclaimer: If not for Sylvia and Gerry Anderson, I would not be able to play in this wonderful universe, so no; I do not own the Thunderbirds.**

Lucy trembles in my embrace, my own tears springing to my eyes as the NICU doctor tells us of the devastating news that has just been discovered about our youngest son.

Our newborn twin boys, Virgil Grissom and Kent Slayton were born yesterday afternoon at 4.40pm and 4.42pm respectively; three weeks early and at first thought, relatively healthy. Both infants, with sandy, dark hair and murky brown eyes were the perfect additions as baby brothers to four-and-a-half-year-old Scott and almost-two-year-old John.

But now, our perfect world is crumbling down about our ears.

One of our beautiful little boys, our youngest son, could potentially be dying, and there is nothing in the slightest that we can do about it.

Kent was admittedly much smaller than his twin, his little limbs fragile and his tiny heart was beating a little slower than Virgil's when he was weighed and measured after Lucy and I had greeted and kissed his brother, but we didn't even know he was there in the first place. It was all a little bit of a blur; the shocking, exciting exclamation by the midwife that there was another infant crowning in the birth canal. He seemed to be healthy, now I think about it, it was all a little too easy; we've never easy pregnancies or births with either Scott or John, so we should've guessed that this time wouldn't be any different.

It's a little bit ironic, really, considering the fact that we were waiting to see if our new child was going to look like a 'Virgil' or a 'Kent' when he was born, so it worked out well that that particular problem was solved when little Kent was placed into my arms not long after his twin.

We went to sleep in the hospital bed last night happy and content, gazing at our little boys in their shared hospital crib after Mom had taken Scott and John home, but when we woke in the middle of the night so the twins could nurse, we were met with a heartbreaking discovery. Kent was gasping for breath against Virgil's side, the older infant whimpering alongside his brother. My youngest son's skin was tinged a sickly-pale colour, and I felt the blood leave my face as I called the nurses and they whisked both boys away to be examined more closely.

Virgil was fine; it was Kent that was having the problems.

They explained to us that because of the way the boys had been positioned in the womb and that because of the fact that none of the exams that had been carried out on Virgil had even detected Kent, the congenital defect in our tiny boy's heart is now irreversible and could quite potentially be fatal.

"Can we see him?" I croak gruffly, as Lucy wipes her eyes surreptitiously on the sleeve of her light shirt, clutching my arm as painfully as I hold her in my arms.

The doctor nods, her face terribly sympathetic, and retrieves a wheelchair for Lucy, who wraps little Virgil in a blanket, unwilling to leave him behind.

Kent lays in the humidicrib, his breaths laboured and shallow, covered in wires and tubes, almost plastered in tape over the diaper that almost engulfs his little body. Virgil stirs in Lucy's arms and lets out a wail, crying softly as Kent sleeps unmoving beneath the soothing lights, my youngest son looking so defenceless without his brother beside him.

My heart clenches, unwilling to face the truth in front of my eyes, but Kent is barely moving, and the monitor at the side of the station my son is strapped into beeps irregularly, a sign of the tenuous fragility of my tiny boy's life. I grip Lucy's free hand, as she asks tremulously if she can put a whimpering Virgil in with Kent. Tears fall down my cheeks as Virgil settles immediately as he is laid side-by-side with his twin, snuggling into Kent's side and falling asleep instantly, his tiny hand grasping blindly in the air as he settles, the little cap on his head matching Kent's, except for colour; blue for him, pale green for Kent.

Knowing my twin brother Will, and being as close as the two of us are, I can hardly imagine the grief that little Virgil will go through if we lose Kent, it will be impossible. It's unthinkable.

_Please, God… Keep my boy safe…_ I sob, shaking with the fear that squeezes my heart in my chest._ Help him live…_

Please, please, I'm begging you, keep him safe. We've only known him for twelve hours, but I can hardly imagine life without him.

_Please, God._

_Please._

**A/N: Thanks for reading guys, as always, all comments/concrit is appreciated.**

**Pyre. Xx**


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